Philosophizing Madmen

A forum for expressing my views on religion, diversity, human behavior and relationships, current issues and events, and sharing some of my personal experiences and stories of people who have impacted my life.

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She was born at her parents' home in Shrewsbury, Massachusetts on a blustery, frigid day. Tiny, premature and with barely enough strength to squall her displeasure at such an untimely entrance, she earned only the comment, "She probably won't live, Eva," from her father, William.
Eva, as optimistic as she was naïve, named her unexpected child Irene Therese. Eva hadn't known she was pregnant. After almost ten years of waiting and hoping, she had finally concluded that she was barren. When her stomach unaccountably began to swell, she thought she had a tumor. It was one of her more sensible sisters, called to the "deathbed" of a frightened Eva, who told her she was in the process of becoming a mother.
Since she hadn't known she was pregnant, she didn't know how early the child had come. It was 1925; the incubators and other miracles of modern medicine were as yet nonexistent. Irene was wrapped in flannel cloths and …

I watched him weave through the potted plants and tables as he worked his way over to me. I sat in a red upholstered booth with a sticky tablecloth. Cheap paper placemats printed with the Chinese zodiac lay beneath the napkin wrapped silverware. Cracked vinyl menus waited beside each place.
As he walked the last five feet and slid into the booth across from me I thought, when did I stop thinking he was handsome and charming and start seeing that he's weak and pathetic? Did he always slouch?
I suppose my greeting was less than cordial. "Hello, Roger."
He grunted and studied the menu.
After we'd ordered our lunches I folded my hands on the placemat in front of me. Might as well get this over with, I thought. "About the arrangements - "
"Are you really going to go through with this?" He asked impatiently.
I studied his face before answering. Nothing there made me sorry about my decision. "Yes."
He slammed his hand down on the tabl…

I changed my mind. Instead of telling you why I have PTSD I'm going to ask you to read my book: "Chained by Choice". It's based on a true story - my story. I've changed the names and added a few sidetracks. The story takes an abrupt about-face somewhere towards the end. I added a situation to make the story more believable, because the truth is not, and because I don't want to be sued by someone who recognizes the story.
So please read "Chained by Choice." Make sure it's by me because there's another book by the same name. It's available on Amazon along with my two other books. Amazon is selling them for $16.00. I have a few copies available that I'll sell for $5.00 plus $3.99 s&h

This is not going to be a long list of aches and pains with all the gory details. Just a brief description of why I can sit on my butt all day engrossed in my hobbies or playing my violin. A few years back I was diagnosed as having Bipolar Disorder. No one was surprised except me. After some painful self examination I had to accept the diagnosis. When I did, I also realized how terribly I'd treated some people, especially those who were closest to me. I had to apologize to several people, saying " I know this doesn't excuse my behavior, but it does at least explain it. I'm so sorry." Again, no one was surprised, and that was rather humiliating. My fits of rage and crying mortification slowly faded once I began to take appropriate medications. Shortly after the first surprise followed two more less-surprising diagnoses: anxiety disorder and PTSD. I'll explain the cause of the latter in my next installment.
As if that weren't enough, I also develo…

Introducing myself: I claim to be a writer, yet it's been five years since I started this blog and wrote any posts. I've done better with my other claim to self-definition. That claim is that I'm also a tailor. I worked for several years at the Colonial Williamsburg Costume Design Center where I gained some valuable experience. I' m on disability so I can't use that skill for income, but I do use it to serve the Lord. I do free alterations and mending for the members of my church - only asking that they consider giving to the building fund. I haven't really had the business that I expected, maybe because they're unsure of my actual abilities or they just plain forget. Anyway, I stay busy with my many hobbies as well as taking care of my three dogs. My newest activity has been taking violin lessons. I enjoy this, and am making some progress. When I practice my dogs stand around me and yip or howl, depending on their breed. I think they like the mus…